


Just Thoughts

by orphan_account



Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: F/F, F/M, Gen, M/M, Multi, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-30
Updated: 2017-11-10
Packaged: 2018-08-12 02:18:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 9
Words: 7,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7916584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Short stories, one-shots , and others. Each chapter will have a description.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. BlackFalcon

I Wasn't That Drunk

He had agreed to meet her at 8 that night at a bar. It had been her suggestion. She told herself it was just to make sure Steve and Clint were alright. But her hands trembled as she dressed. She tried to tell herself she wasn't trying to hard to look nice as she put the extra coat of mascara on. It was just Sam, she told herself as she took that last look in the mirror. It's just Sam.

He had changed his shirt three times. He had taken forty-five minutes to shave. Clint kept passing the bathroom, a knowing smirk on his face. "You sure your up for this, pal? You kinda look like your gonna piss yourself." the archer teased leaning against the door frame.

"Shut it, man. She's a lady. She deserves nice things." Sam retorted.

"Now when you say 'nice things' ..."Steve chimed in from the hall.

"Don't start. I'm doing this for the two of you. She's worried about you and I'm going to attract the last amount of attention." Sam shot back.

"Aw. Look at him taking one for the home team." Clint sang to him.

Sam rolled his eyes, not rising to the bait. He took his jacket from the closet and collected his keys. It's only Natasha, he thought trying to calm his heart. It's only Natasha.

 

He was fifteen minutes early, she noted as he walked in. He looked good! From the back of the bar she allowed herself time to take it all in. She was also glad she'd arrived early enough to be two glasses in. She hadn't remembered how good he looked! Those eyes, that smile. Now she could permit herself to drowned in them. No witnesses. No regret. No judgment. She missed it when he spotted her.

He asked the bartender what she was drinking. He obtained drinks for both of them and approached her with a smile," What is a classy lady such as yourself doing in a low class joint like this?"

She smiled, blushing," Waiting for a guy like you to point out my mistake."

His laugh lit up a part of her she hadn't been aware needed it. "Fair enough." He leaned in. She caught a hint of his cologne, he smelled as good as he looked. "Are you sure we should be here? Out in public like this?"

She shook herself and tried for a jesting tone," Of course! After all, we're not going to be here long, right?"

His smile dimmed in wattage. "Sure. Just long enough for a status update." he didn't even try to conceal his disappointment.

Natasha's heart leapt in her chest," Maybe a little longer. I haven't danced since that party at Stark's. I'm overdue." Her smile was genuinely shy. She could flirt and did it well when she didn't mean it. The real thing, with someone you cared about, was much harder.

They talked keeping the conversation light and away from sensitive topics. No exchange of words involving the present, divided circumstances or legal matters. Those would be saved for a quieter setting. No, this was just Nat and Sam getting to know each other. He'd had three glasses, as had she, and the words had been superseded by long glances and flirtatious smiles. He held out a hand," I think you said you were overdue. Would you like to fix that?" She responded by rising and leading the way.

He felt better than she'd imagined. She was smaller appeared. They swayed together in slow circles through that song and the next. The bartender brought them another round. They separated reluctantly to go back to the table. She had not let go of his hand.

"So I would imagine we should have that other conversation." he suggested after he'd finished his drink.

"I've got to admit you, the wine, it's a potent combination. I'm feeling a little tipsy over here."

"Then I must see the lady makes it back to her room safely."

"I certainly can't let you drive home. You've been drinking and that would be irresponsible. You're just going to have to stay the night." her voice dropping to barely above a whisper, causing him to lean closer to hear. He deliberately lowered his eyes to her lips and slowly lifted them back to hers.

"And if something were to happen we can always say it was the wine."

"Except yours was beer." she teased.

He laughed," True, but I couldn't go back to the guys and tell them we chatted over merlot. They'd take my man card away."

It was her turn to laugh, "I've got to powder my nose. Then back to my room, okay?" he nodded. She smiled and retreated.

At the bar he paid and purchased another bottle of wine. Just because the bar was closing didn't mean the party had ended. She touched his arm when she returned and he took her hand. She led him to a motel a few blocks away. She unlocked the door, he uncorked the wine, they both sat on the bed and said nothing for several long moments. He finished his drink, she finished hers.

He moved slowly, giving her the opportunity to stop him. His hand cupped her cheek as his lips met hers. She closed the distance between them. He let her set the pace. He lifted his arms when she took off his shirt. He would have stopped if she hadn't wanted him to remove hers. Shoes were lost at the same time. She told him it was time to ditch the pants. She led the way through the night.

He woke first the following morning. Her hand curled on his chest. He smiled at her as he brushed the hair from her face. He looked at the clock and was sorry to find it was time to leave. Sighing, he began picking his clothes off the floor. He picked hers up as well, folding them, and laying them on the chair. He was tying his shoes when she stirred.

"Are they okay?" she asked, her voice thick with sleep.

"They're alive. None of us are okay. This is just fucked up right now. Are you okay?" concern for her deep in his eyes.

"I'm better now." she smiled up at him. He kissed her.

"I've got to go." he said reluctantly.

"Wait. What happened last night...."she started.

"Was wonderful. I want it to happen again. A lot." he spoke seriously.

"I just wanted you to know, I wasn't that drunk." she assured him.

He turned from the door and kissed her again. "Neither was I. I've wanted that for a while." he touched his forehead to hers.

She caressed his cheek," So have I."


	2. Blackfalcon II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More Natasha Romanov and Sam Wilson

Past Due Again

Clint had gone home for a bit. Steve snuck off to Wakanda. Wanda didn't really check in with him anyway, so he figured he had a moment or two of quiet time to himself. He slept in. Ran as far as he wanted without concern for his freaking left for a change. He made himself breakfast and watched shows he wanted to see, cause there was no one around to argue. He didn't have to watch the news. He didn't have to watch D.I.Y.'s on porch or kitchen remodels. No cooking shows or chat shows. Just some good old fashioned cartoons! He settled in on the couch, looking forward to Wakko with a possible side of nap when he noticed it. Tucked in by the game console was a bottle with a note attached. Frowning, he rolled of the couch for a closer look.

It was a semi-familiar bottle of house Merlot. The card was small and without ornamentation. It read: I'm overdue again. Tonight at 8. You remember the place. An hourglass was drawn at the bottom. He laughed aloud with a smile. Yeah, he remembered the place.... 

Natasha answered the door prepared for a polo shirt , slacks and a smile. Her breath caught in her throat. He had roses, wine and a three piece suit. She accepted the flowers, her breath belying her need.

His smile was truly pleased, "I keep telling them, you're a lady and you like nice things. Nobody listens. " he took her hand in his and kissed it. "Well I listen and I know red is your favorite color." Natasha hadn't expected to be wooed. It was a full frontal assault to her senses. He smelled better than before as he poured the wine. She allowed herself to be seated in a chair.

"Before this evening begins, I have to let you know about a couple of things. First, they're fine. Don't worry about any of them. Safe as houses, if that could be said of any of us at this point." he paused

She answered with the second question," And you're here..."

"Because I don't want it to be a one off. I don't want us to be "one time there was this". No. I want to see you. I want you to see me. This is a no-fear zone. I need this as much as you do."

"That means there are ugly bits. A lot of them. And I don't know if I'm ready.."

"Babe, you asked me here. I let you set the terms. You've been through more than most. You've been tested. You've been places no one else would go. You have my respect. Now I'm asking you to let go. You didn't break into my house to tell me you wanted to breakup."

"I wasn't aware we were together." she tried.

"Bullshit." he smiled, pulling her closer. "You left it knowing I'd find it. You wouldn't have left if you did not want this to happen." he spoke clearly, enunciating every word slowly. He leaned in and kissed her. Lips tasting the desire. She could stop him if he went too far. His gentle offering of what lay beyond offered before her.

"What if you're right?" she queried before moving her lips a quarter breath from his.

He didn't move. His breath ghosted across her lips in intense expulsion. His walls tumbling down around him, she felt more than heard the plea.

"Understand when I say I need you. I need you, Natasha. Not the Widow. Not Fury's spy. Not what you pretend to be for everyone else." Sam slowly removed his jacket and knelt on the floor where she sat. " I need you. With all the jagged edges and unanswered questions."

Natasha hesitated a fraction of a second before her lips met his. A frenzied rush of emotion, a need for physical touch. Clothing was ripped, pulled and, tugged with impatience as need overrode intellect. His fingers were hasty but not unkind as he touched her wetness.

Longing for this moment, with this man had her almost pleading as she wrapped him with her legs. His trousers mindlessly thrust aside as she gave in at last. Her mouth on his neck as she gasped,"Now."

He needed nothing further. He thrust deep within her. Sensation short-circuited his brain as he followed his own desires and her guttural urgings. He lost himself within her sucking, squeezing, folds. Her pleasure more tantamount than his own. Brief , frenzied motions had them both sweating and gasping. He collapsed against her as they found release. Her head rested on his chest as she struggled to catch her breath.

It took several minutes for him to recapture his breath. "Maybe next time....you turn up.....air conditioning...." he rested his forehead against hers. 

"What makes you think there's going to be a ' next time'?" She whispered without air. A teasing glint in her eye.

"Oh well, if it's going to be like that..." he tried. She shifted away from him. Unsteadily, she walked to a bucket of ice, taking a cube from the top before lounging onto the bed. She eyed him from there.

"I didn't say there wouldn't be. But, I bear in mind that you do keep company with old men. Who knows what they've told you." 

His eyes lit with a familiar smile as he prowled his way to the bed," They haven't done anything permanent. Beside reinforcing that I get your door." He gave them both a momentary reprieve as he collected himself.

She glanced up at him," You know, I'd let you tie me up." she glanced at the headboard.

"Why?" he asked in sincerity.." Is there someplace you'd rather be?"

She allowed herself that tiny bit of insecurity."No. But if you..."

"No." he answered leaning into kiss her again. "No. This is either together or not at all."

She smiled. True Natasha shining out,"You may be in for a long night." she smirked up at him.

Sam's eyes twinkled down in happiness for the first time in months." As long as you like..." he tried before she stopped the words.


	3. Dearest Sharon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a/n: feels, death. Sharon and Steve, its canon

She had woken lucid to the faces of her parents smiling fondly at her from the foot of her bed. So, she thought as she offered a smile in return, today's the day. Her brother and her husband would come to meet them later . As she dressed, ate, and prepared for the day, she steeled her resolve against the regret. One last task remained yet undone. Much as the doing of it, though would hurt, it was the right way. It was his way. She would see it through. It was the right way. If it were the other way around, he would have done it by now. Measuring herself against a moral benchmark would not make it easier by any means. But, it did resolve her fortitude.

"May I have a pen and paper when you've a moment?" she asked.

"Of course, ma'am. Without delay." the young lady responded.

She'd started it and thrown it away five times before her brother arrived.

"Dearest sister, you cannot delay the inevitable with flowery poetry." he teased her gently from his place beside the window.

"I want perfection, Michael." she shot back tartly, "She -they- deserve the best I've to offer." she crumbled another sheet of paper and tossed it at the in. Together they watched it land directly on top of the rest.

"At least you made it.'he taunted under his breath.

Hours later, dinnertime has come and gone, yet her task was failing in its execution. She'd missed the correct tone, or misspoke so often in ink that the bin had overflowed and been emptied. She'd had to request more paper. She now sat before a blank sheet of paper. A wealth of things to express but lacking a proper form and/or context. Adrift in a sea of too much to say and no good way to start, she glanced about the room in supplication. That was when her husband decided to make his appearance.

She could have written sonnets in that moment about his handsomeness. He ran a careless seeming hand through perfect hair. His eyes glittered with the quick wit she adored so much. He quirked a smile and said, "Hey Gorgeous. You ain't writing a master's thesis here. Let's get a move on. Say what you mean. She'll get it and the clock's ticking." She smiled at his well -intentioned chiding and 'for once' , as he dramatically exclaimed, did as she was asked.

The nurse found her smiling in her bed. The task finished and neatly folded into an envelope with a name. Her hand still clutched the pen, the only physical witness of the task's effort and completion.

"T.O.D. 0530." the doctor announced, who had been summoned from slumber. "Contact next of kin." he ambled off awkwardly after patting the age-weathered hand.

The nurse, who finished her paperwork before coming back to the room, cried openly as she gently washed the dear lady who had been in her care for many years. She dressed her as gently as she had in life, a night gown covering her for transport. The world has dimmed greatly today, she thought as she picked up the letter and prepared to place this unwanted call. She sat at the nurses' station as the tears reappeared, the great light of Agent Peggy Carter has gone.

It was seven in the morning in Berlin when she was told the news. Sharon would not have answered had she been awake enough to see who was calling her. She loved her aunt and this was the news she had been dreading. She wished she'd had a cup of coffee beforehand, but knew bad news doesn't announce itself with warning or preparedness. Tears fell unknown and unchecked from her cheeks as her trembling hands attempted to make coffee. She gave up when she couldn't pour the beans anywhere but on the counter. She tried tea. Failed. She was crying so hard she had to go to the restroom to be sick. She was in there long enough the kettle ran dry.

She went back to her room. She screamed her loss and pain into a pillow. This wasn't happening! This couldn't be happening. It was not this day! She exhausted herself and her denial in a room where no one could see. She could do so because no one could see. She couldn't feel like this and face him. Not him. Not when she felt like this.

She packed a bag. She called for a flight. Sharon was in London before she texted. She didn't trust herself to call. Not with this. Not with him. Not for her.

He was almost ready for the argument. Two seconds away from regrouping everyone with his logic. He knew the line simply couldn't be drawn here, not like this. Everyone afraid of Wanda, Vision had yet to be revealed to the public. After Ultron, how could Tony overlooked that detail. He was going to try for diplomacy that may have been successful. For the second time in a month, the proverbial rug was jerked from under him. For them. Bucky. Peggy. This loss was too great to bear. Not with them watching. A text.

"I've got to go." he simply explained as he rushed from what he would come to know as a pivotal moment in the room. He could not, and would not share this with them. It was too close, too personal and they already didn't want to listen. He took a moment to gather himself on the stairs. Trying to reason through shock and pain. As the tears fell he reconsidered his original plan: one cannot simply run from New York to London.

Between fits of tears and outright guilt, Sharon tried several methods to strengthen her nerves. Yoga, no. Muay Thai, no. Firing range, no. Each left her feeling the yawning void for the insomniac aunt who called her anytime, anywhere. Night or day. Her wondrously beautiful aunt who held the heart of the man she'd dreamt of. No peace. No solace. Just a longing for her Aunt Peggy or the arms of a certain man. She cleaned her weapon. Her eyes traced over her backpack. A letter, unread, peeked from between partitions. The one item Peggy had left her Sharon had scrupulously avoided. In haste and frustration she ripped it from the bag and read :

Dearest Sharon,

The world has changed,and none of us can go back. All we can do is our best. And sometimes... the best we can do is start over.

Just so you know we shall never leave things as we want to. We make choices, sacrifices, and dreams. We dream and we plan, then it all falls apart. In retrospect, it's beautiful how it can all come back together. We rebuild our lives from the carnage of our plans. It becomes something we've made, it's what we do. We build it stronger because of what has come before.

Sharon, you are at the edge of a great adventure. A dream. Such will become your life because you live with agility and purpose. You adapt. You overcome. You took the collapse of your world, as you knew it, like nothing more than a Thursday.

You bravely face adversity like you are fire! You have set before you a table of wealth, intelligence, beauty and guile. You are a total package. I wish I'd had your strength and confidence when I started. Carry on, my dear, dear girl!

Do it bravely.

Do be careful.

Do be mindful.

Do take care of him.

He is my only regret, and I leave it to you.

I've been selfish. I claimed him as mine so long ago that I forgot to let him him live. When he came back, I thought nothing of him. Not at first. Now, I've learned better. He emerged from the ice with the memory, while I've had the life of my dream. The man you believe you know, pales in comparison to the one I do. I didn't realize I was still holding on to him so tightly until today. I am sorry. I refused to relinquish a heart that no longer belonged to me.

You've been smitten with him since you were six years old. You adored him at least as much as I have. But you have something I don't: time. I'm not giving him to you. No, my dearest, I'm allowing you to let your feelings be known. You never told him because of me. Yes, I loved him. More to the point, I denied him life.

Forgive me. Please.

I'm asking you to help him shoulder his burden. Tell the lies he cannot or will not tell. Fight the secret wars he can't see. Be the shield he doesn't know he needs.

Be you for him.

Because he doesn't know how much he needs you. He is blindingly oblivious that he has a 'six' that needs watching.

Cry at my funeral once, I am beyond pain now. Give thanks that we are family. Then- remember- YOU are Sharon Carter. THE Sharon Carter. The one and only. I have the utmost faith you will succeed. I'm watching.

With much love as always,

P.C.

After Credit:

Steve recognized the similarities as Sharon delivered the eulogy. Now that he knew, he took it as less an insult to his character when he removed the letter from her purse and read:

Dearest Sharon,


	4. That Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rhodes, Rogers, Wilson, and _______ go to Arlington National cemetery for Memorial Day.
> 
> Y/N is ___ here. I apologize for the inconsistency.  
> Also warnings: death, loss, survivor's guilt. As a person who has served this is what I do on this day. I am extremely grateful to those who served before me, with me, and after me. I'm honored to have been one of you.

ony watched as they silently, left the compound.

"Should we go with them?" Thor asked quietly.

Tony took a moment as he watched their departure. "No. All of us have our demons. We remember them as we choose. You do recall what happened last time?" the eyebrow raised sardonically a moot point. It conveyed the message: leave them be. "It's THAT day." Tony offered.

"I see." disappointment at not being there warred across Thor's face.

"This isn't about us right now." Tony tried to comfort.

Thor nodded and they all knew what had to be done.

 

Not all of them were here. Some had been flown home, others had decided to be where they lived. It was understood. A few were only markers for remembrance. Most of them he, nor the assembled group had met. They walked each of the rows in determination. In silence, yet doing the same things. Thanking each of their fellow soldiers for their service.

Sam , Rhodey, Steve, and __ were walking Arlington cemetery to honor the lost. All of them had friends or family resting there. This day's purpose, as it had become a tradition now, was to honor and remember them all. They walked in a single file line. A solemn formation whether they noticed or not.

A scattering of fifteen fallen Air Force service members had a flower bestowed upon their resting place by Rhodes. He sniffed loudly after taking a moment for each of them. He replaced Sam at the back of the line.

Steve carried three flowers for those he knew here. At one he knelt. At another he smiled sadly and at the last he rest his hand on the stone, a mix of feelings expressed in his face.

Sam sat with Riley. He twirled the flower nervously. His mouth opened as if to speak and thought better of it. Tears intermittently filled his eyes during the five minutes he sat honoring his friend before rising to leave. He took his spot at the rear back. No one commented if they noticed the backward glance he cast as they moved along the row.

____ carried seven flowers with her. She had placed three before they'd reached Riley. One for her grandfather, one for a great uncle and another for her great grandfather. The last of them were in a relatively close cluster, as they had been lost in the same engagement. She had been in the field hospital tending to the wounded. They had been in the helicopter trying to recover the injured when they'd taken an anti- aircraft missile.

As each of them passed people they knew, they fell to the rear of the formation. A squad of four, the one at the rear free to weep without an audience. ___ lingered at the rear now. These last three had been with her through basic training, A.I.T., and shared a duty station. They had spent three tours together. The last grave was for her best friend, practically sisters. ___ had convinced her to join the Army.

Sam started it:

Dear Lord, keep me by the arm You bear, and direct a path through harm's way. Help me know You're always there guiding me by night and day." They had finished the sorrowful procession through the rows and made their way to give honor to the Commanders-In- Chiefs who were interned here.

"And Lord, at moments when I'm feeling lonely and tempted with discouragement at my post, help me lean mightily on You. Only because it is You I depend on most." Rhodes continued the soldier's prayer reverently.

Steve's voice cracked slightly as they paid homage at the tomb of the Unknown soldier. " When I long to see my family or start thinking of times with a friend, I'll know that You're with me then. Even after absence is at an end."

____'s voice was barely a whisper as they stopped before the memorial to those who were unidentifiable by even D.N.A. "Shield me as I answer duty's call. For I have a job from which I cannot depart. Protect me from my enemy, who'd have me fall. For it is You who guides my life and my heart."

They shared a long final moment of silence before they returned to the car. They were not the only ones who walked among the honored dead that day. It was an unexpected reminder to the other mourners that four of the Avengers were service members. They were quietly grateful to share the cemetery with Captain America and his friends.

The conversation was sparse and more often than not monosyllabic. Noise mainly consisted of sniffling and heavy sighs. Tears were swiped away with alacrity if they had been permitted to fall. Located not far from Arlington was a bar frequented mainly by those who'd served and lost someone. There were no signs denoting it as service members only, it was the atmosphere caused by its patrons. It was a place they came after a visit to let down the walls that separated them from their grief. The very air was choked with sorrow, regret, and seriousness. Even the gravity felt heavier inside. Such a burden could only be carried for a certain length of time by one who had never enlisted.

___ bought the first round of beer and a whole bottle of Russell's Reserve Single Barrel rye. The first shot, as always , for those who still lived. As they carried the weight of pain and memory. Then names were offered in toast, so were the battlefields. Laughter was a rare and bitter thing in this place. Too many had been lost for it to be otherwise. The sacred last toast was for those whose fate was and most likely would always be unknown.

They loaded themselves into the car and Steve drove them back to the compound. This ride made in total silence. Each of the vehicle's occupants lost in the depth of memory. Upon entering, they'd found the main floor vacant ready for their company. Clint and Natasha had readied various games and cards. Tony had stocked the bar with a special gift for Steve from Thor. They had left the premises. Once they had tried to be of comfort to their friends. Once. They swore after to be with them that day in spirit only.

Between them they played half-hearted games of poker. Pool had sufficed for awhile. As smiles grew easier the talking did too. Stories were traded. At first, tales of initial entry training and the hell that had been. As the dark closed in outside it did in the stories that came out of them. In quiet, desperate tones came the horrors of what they had seen and done. Torn from each of their souls. Cathartic in time, perhaps, but right now these visions haunted their dreams.

One by one, reluctant and exhausted they took themselves to their beds. too drunk not to sleep, but restless. Hands grasping in sleeping weakness for someone no longer there. Whimpers disturbed the stillness of the night.

The following morning:

Tony was unusually quiet that morning. He always was on that Tuesday. He was pouring his coffee when Jarvis startled him out of the ebony recesses of thought.

"Sir, it's ten o'clock in the morning. Shall I wake them?"

"No, J. It's that day again." came the distracted reply. Tony's mind's eye brought back the singular experience of waking them for fun the day after. The sadness, the hollowness in each of the faces of his friends.

"As you wish, Sir.' the A.I. answered and went silent.

Tony went down to the lab. He found Bruce perplexed and concerned,"Where is everyone? Are they okay?"

"Yesterday was Memorial Day." Tony gently reminded him.

"Oh." Bruce said. He lifted his sympathetic gaze to the ceiling as if he could see his teammates and offer them succor. "I'm ......I'm ......" he trailed off as words failed him.

"Yeah." Tony sniffed and went back to work, "Yeah."


	5. Accidental Avengers part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki gets a friend.
> 
> a/n: This is simply for humor sake. It will have no lasting outcome on the way the stories played out on screen. This is based on the movies only. For your enjoyment. I thank you for reading. Your humble author.

Loki walked among the insignificant mortals apprising his future kingdom. He was finding New York more to his liking as he walked the streets preparing for his domination. People had not yet begun to flee. He smiled mostly to himself, that would be changing soon. He passed a bakery whose goods confused him. "The Puppery" read the sign at the store. All of its goods were baked in the shapes of dog's heads, bones, and those oddly shaped metal things on the walkways. It was a curious place indeed. He would have bypassed it completely were it not for the poor little beast trailing forlornly behind him.

It was a cute little thing. It waddled slightly as if it hadn't quite received the practice that it needed. Loki tried to ignore it, but this store had it whimpering. Loki heaved an exasperated sigh and plucked it up. It was a little boy. He shuffled his hand up to his chest as he murmured an apology. A bell dinged announcing his presence. The puppy's nosed perked up, sniffing at the delightful smells. Loki himself found them to be very pleasant. A girl appeared from a swinging kitchen door. She was covered in flour , her face slightly damp with sweat , but it was her eyes that drew him in. They had gone weak at the sight of his new friend. She loved the little mongrel on sight. Then her eyes met his.

Her (e/c) eyes had not changed from the weakened, joy-filled expression that the puppy had earned for them. She extended her hand in kindness, "Hi. I'm y/n. Who are you? and who is your delightful little friend?" She asked, offering a hand.

Loki waited for the desertion of his newly found small friend. Surprisingly, the little face with the large brown eyes looked back at him for permission. It tugged at his heart, "It's alright, little one. I don't believe she means you any harm." It seemed to be enough for the puppy. He leaped from Loki to your arms, keeping a wary eye on you.

"What is his name?" You asked, gently scratching behind his ear.

"He hasn't said," Loki answered with an indulging smile. The puppy yipped happily and struggled to move to the ground.

Y/n laughed at his antics," Well little Not Introduced wants down, so maybe a leash and harness is a start?" You led the way as he ushered the puppy through the aisles separating cat supplies from birds, finally arriving at the appointed destination. "We have a decent selection. Please feel free to ask any questions."

Loki surveyed his choices. A set with skulls and crossbones didn't seem to fit the happy-go-lucky personality of his new friend. A cloud motif seemed to infantilize him, so that was a no. Spikes were out of the question as was black leather. Loki seemed at a complete loss until a whine at his ankle drew his attention. A plain powder blue leash. Simple. Fitting. He memorized the image of the small creature clutching it in his baby teeth for the future to come.

"Is this what you'd like ?" he asked gently, kneeling. He caressed the small head. The puppy's eyes rolled back in happiness before he barked a yes. Loki's smile was pure as he absorbed the bouncing barking happiness of his new friend. He was truly enjoying himself when the pain struck. He was reminded of his duty.

As he recovered he looked into two concerned faces. The shopkeep and his dog. His dog. He set about selected food and registering him for training. He paid for it all before gathering up his puppy. He smelled that wonderful puppy smell. committed it to memory. Then tenderly handed the small dog to the small shopkeep girl.

"My name is Loki. I ask you to keep him safe. Will you do this for me?"

Her eyes wet with tears at the gift in her arms. Loki knew he had chosen the right girl for the job.

"Yes. Of Course, but..." she never got to finish her question. Loki flew off to commence war against the Avengers armed with Chitauri.

Y/n took it as best she could. The puppy whined for days after the battle. Jumped at every noise. Growled at your awful boyfriend until he left. You loved your beagle Loki. You thanked the stars you met that cosplayer that day.


	6. Broken Hearted part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony tries to comfort Bucky's tortured niece.

Her eyes were unfocused as they stared from the window. Her thoughts dark and unforgiving in nature. Tony considered her for a long while before attempting an approach. "You know, the more I think about this, the more obvious things become." 

"How do you mean?" her focus was now razor sharp though she wouldn't make eye contact. He checked her expression in the window and was grateful she wouldn't. The anger on that face was scary.

"I mean we know him. We know why he made those choices. Hell, he even tried to mend the bridge. The least we could do is try to see it from the other side?" he wanted to speak more but faltered in his eloquence. He could see Bucky in her features. See the cold bite of winter's hate in her eyes. That unmistakable cold, calculating weight in her stare.

Tony shook himself," Do they teach that or was it hereditary?" 

"There are some things they could not break Stark. No amount of wiping could take it all from me. No, your Steve is keeping my uncle from me. I have to know why it worked on him and didn't work on me. I will have answers and then maybe his death."

Tony's eyes were wide in defense and shock, " Who do you think you're killing? Because I promise murder baby, they are very hard to kill."

"I want to know how he could have been so weak?" the girl's voice both hollow and venomous. Tony turned away from her, events of the last two months playing in memory. He saw the fight, the mistakes, the missed opportunities to have found solutions and made real progress. He scratched his head in regret and frustration. He looked back at the wrathful form of Bucky's niece. Kidnapped, tortured, experimented on because of her mutation. Tony didn't just see an angry child. He saw a weapon. One who could be bent to use.

He sighed and joined her at the window. He did not try to comfort her, not physically. He gave her words. Words he wished someone had said to him before he had done something hateful. Because he was in pain. "It worked on him because he had something they could take away."


	7. Broken Hearted part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony and Pepper are not having a good day.

Tony had come to know real pain. On a fundamental level. On a break your soul level. Or so he thought. He fell to his knees before her. "Babe, I.." he tried, the words failing him, his broken body failing him.

"More suits? You swore you were done with this. And what you've done to Steve...?" she couldn't articulate her pain and horror.

"Babe I...I.. just need.."

"I don't care what you need! Do you have any idea what you've done?" she recoiled from him.

He lay on the floor, broken. Bleeding. In need of some comfort."He killed my mom..."

"Your mother died years ago. You broke him yesterday." she saw the shield out of the corner of her eye. "Oh God no Tony. You.. you..." she swallowed back the bile working it's way up.

"Babe.."Tony tried but the blood cut him short.

"No. You did this. You tore apart everything. You promised to stop and then didn't. You promised you'd be here and you aren't. Now you've done this. Are you going to try to be Captain America too?" she spat hotly at his prone bleeding figure, "No, because you can't be him. You'll never be him. And as much as you hate the fact your father loved him too, you destroyed an icon. Congratulations. You have lost us all."


	8. The New Kid Has To Go.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Someone has reprogrammed FRIDAY to call every one in the tower by a.... name. Inspired by a 'what they call their junk' alphabet chart.  
> I present the Avengers....?

Tony had heard complaints all week about the newest IT tech he'd hired. FRIDAY's systems had been ...buggy of late.

"I literally had arrows with a "bang" flag Tony. I could have died." Clint had complained.

"It's not so much that it happened, but it could happen in the field." Steve reasoned.

"I'm going to kill them when I find them." Was Bucky's only statement.

"At least it wasn't Budapest." Natasha deadpanned.

Bruce had just growled.

Tony knew the team needed to air their grievances before things got too far out of hand. He called a rare meeting.He held his head as they all filed in taking their seats. There were new faces he noted. Hot, he thought, and hot. Having Wilson on the team was growing on him. He thought about how to start the meeting when Fury walked in. FRIDAY made the announcement:

"Mister Killer has the floor." Fury frowned and looked at Stark.

"What in the hell is going on here?"

"The question is addressed to you, Skin Meat." The AI announced.

"FRIDAY? What is wrong with you?" Tony demanded.

"Stark, you need to fix this." Steve insisted.

"Giant Tool is correct Skin Meat. Mister Killer is upset." FRIDAY responded. Steve flushed red as Bucky burst out laughing. Sam frowned, determined to be the best friend in this scenario.

"Shut the hell up, Barnes! It needs repair." 

"Sir, Giant Steak is correct. It has upset Not just the aforementioned team members Dangling Swords are both upset. Beast Tool is dangerously close to letting loose. Skin Machine wants to hit something and Man Sword is confused." They all traded looks because they were all confused and had lost track of who was who.

Tony held up his hand for calm,"Guys I know this is hard but we need to be somewhat forgiving here.

"Power Tool is willing to give it a go," FRIDAY informed the very unsettled room of people. 

Sighing, Tony walked to the IT room where Kurt, Luis, and Dave sat. The room was a mess! Wrappers, empty drink containers, and various things were strewn about the normally tidy room. "I promised Scott I'd give them a shot. He said they were good. Does anyone want to piss Scott off? We remember he can grow up and become Kong, right?" Everyone nodded.

"Okay. Let's give them a week. If it doesn't work, it doesn't work. We tried. Guys, fix whatever you've done to FRIDAY's name database. Now." Tony closed the door.

"But I didn't even get to find out what mines name was." Luis whined.


	9. What if we could

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Character chooses to die. Please heed the warnings! If you have any thoughts to end your life, reach out! I and many others are here to help! Do NOT READ IF THIS WILL TRIGGER YOU!

She was hurt. She was drunk. She was hurt and drunk and not talking. A dangerous place for her to be, the right place for her mind.

There was no right way for her to do this. She'd seen how it ended far too many times to go through it again. Life followed by death. She could accept it. Hers ended unnaturally every time. It was time to stop the madness. Her husband had been tested enough. He deserved better. She loved him enough to say goodbye to give him that. She wasn't selfish enough not to say goodbye.

Their eldest child had lost his sister, his twin, in an attack. Not one aimed at her but killed her just the same. His mother kissed while he slept and moved down the hall.

The younger twins slept down the hall. They never remembered a sister. Still too new to the world for them to notice her absence let alone the one to come. Their mother's death would hit them the worst. She was almost ever-present. She kissed their foreheads and it became 'do or die" time.

Him.

Her farewell to him.

Her hand faltered at the familiar knob to what was once also her room. The familiar cadence of his breath filled her with fear. He'd wake, he'd know. How could she take so much from someone who had given a life? Sacrificed everything and asked for so little in return? Just her love, which she'd promised in sworn words, words that burned her soul, her heart and were now tearing at her mind. Her hand shook because she didn't trust her body not to run to him. Didn't trust her mouth not to tell him every secret she held.

In the end, she left a note and walked downstairs, never opening that door.

He didn't find it at first. Didn't look for her. Screams woke him instead.

Charlie had needed to pee. The standing rule of the house was: you can only claim him if you care for him. Their oldest found their mother's broken body on the stairs.For a moment it was his life and it hurt too much, felt too real. Then the world turned to mist and it was just he and she.

No pain. No worry. Just her beautiful face ...and why did she look sad? No more pain, her words echoed as she faded. No more pain. 

He had no idea of where he was just a hint of perfume. He was meeting stark today, the mission. A cousin on the tarmac. Fine. He could deal with, he could.

He missed her perfume.


End file.
